In Winter, We Rest

Yesterday was the Winter Solstice: the first day of winter and the return of the light. The days grow longer and the nights grow shorter. Like Oliver’s bird, I grow ever more restless. I have an idea–ideas–unfolding from under my wings. Also like the white-eyed bird, I want to go to sleep. … More In Winter, We Rest

Letting Go

I’ve been letting go lately. This pause-button pandemic has given me space and time to re-envision a different way my life could be. This leave-taking of “normalcy” has been therapeutic for me, but not in the way I would’ve expected it. My introverted self doesn’t really notice a difference in my day-to-day activities. Mostly. I … More Letting Go

The Writing Life; OR: Where Do I Go From Here?

Happy New Year! It’s January so I can still say that, right? Last year I wrote about New Year’s Eve and Day being my favorite holidays and some of the things that I do to prepare for a brand new year. (Read about that here.)  This year, I am solely focusing on my writing and in what direction I want it to … More The Writing Life; OR: Where Do I Go From Here?

Only Love Can Break A Heart: On Loving Big and Grieving Big

       “Only love can break a heart, only love can mend it again.” It’s been a while since I’ve written a blog post. I come to my computer daily, sit down intending to write, but end up on endless Google searches or posting one-liners on Facebook. Or looking at cat and flower photos … More Only Love Can Break A Heart: On Loving Big and Grieving Big

Angels Among Us

Angels Among Us        It’s been a rough couple of months for my family. I haven’t been able to write about it in detail and share it yet, but I will. My husband’s only brother, Pete, was involved in a fatal motorcycle accident right after Thanksgiving. It shook our family’s foundation, as these … More Angels Among Us

These Woods

“Through these woods I have walked thousands of times. For many years I felt more at home here than anywhere else, including our own house. Stepping out into the world, into the grass, onto the path, was always a kind of relief. I was not escaping anything. I was returning to the arena of delight. … More These Woods